


At the First Sign of Spring

by 0hHeyThereBigBadWolf



Series: A Poem Lovely As A Tree [5]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Fluff and Smut, Jacob and His Flower Powers, M/M, Side Effects Of Magic, Spring Fever, Very Fun Ones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:51:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17789438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf/pseuds/0hHeyThereBigBadWolf
Summary: If Jacob's magic is tied to the earth, well, it makes sense that he might get a little more...energetic during springtime, right? Ezekiel's not complaining at any rate.





	At the First Sign of Spring

The best part about working so close to where they live is that them getting…wound up at work isn’t a problem. It’s a common side-effect, Ezekiel’s found. Escaping death and kicking ass is a killer aphrodisiac, and once the case is resolved, all that tension ends up boiling over into other areas. 

Ezekiel kicks open the door of the townhouse so hard that he pulls away from Jacob’s mouth just long enough to glance over his shoulder and make sure he didn’t put a hole in the wall. Jacob presses his warm, wet mouth against the side of Ezekiel’s throat, kissing a sweet line from below his ear down to the hollow of his throat. The door was fine. The wall was fine. Everything was great.

They stagger further into the townhouse, and Jacob flings the door shut behind them, then breaks off from the kiss. He’s flushed and bright-eyed, almost vibrating with energy. “Upstairs. Move it, go,” he insists, giving Ezekiel a helpful swat on the arse.

“Race you to the bedroom. _Readysetgo,”_ the thief exclaims and bolts up the stairs two at a time, hearing Jacob’s laughter and heavy footsteps behind him. 

He feels Jacob’s hand snatch at his shirttails, and he laughs, ducking around an enormous potted fern. They have a brief chase around the living room, laughing as they dodge through the indoor jungle of houseplants. Ezekiel leaps over the sofa and makes a break up the stairs; it surprises him when Jacob bounds right over the coffee table after him. He puts on a burst of speed to catch Ezekiel around the waist, pressing him up against the wall and kissing him deeply. “A merry chase, _mein elster,_ but I’ve got you now,” Jacob laughs merrily.

“You’re energetic today,” Ezekiel chortles, wrapping both arms around his neck. “And horny, too. What’s gotten into you, eh?”

“I’m hoping you will,” Jacob laughs, trailing kisses over his jawline, nibbling on the shell of his ear.

Ezekiel pauses when a sudden thought occurs to him, though his hesitation goes unnoticed by Jacob, who continues to lave attention across his throat and collarbone, licking-nipping-sucking. “Is it because it’s springtime?” he wonders aloud.

That _does_ make the historian pause, pulling his positively sinful mouth away from Ezekiel’s skin. “What?”

“Spring.” Ezekiel leans back slightly to get a better look at Jacob, grinning broadly at this revelation. “That’s why you’re so bloody randy all the time, isn’t it? It’s because it’s springtime.” It hadn’t occurred to him before, but in the past few weeks, Jacob had been far more…energetic than usual. Just when it’d turned to spring.

Jacob blinks at him a few times. His mouth opens, then closes again without making a sound, and he cocks his head to the side. “I…I guess…?”

A laugh bursts out of him at that, and Jacob narrows his eyes at him. Ezekiel puts a hand over his mouth, but the giggles keep coming, bubbling up out of his throat. “I’m—mm, I’m sorry. It’s just…that’s _hilarious._ You’re horny because it’s springtime. You’re in bloody heat!” He bursts out in laughter, leaning back in Jacob’s arms.

“You’re about one more good laugh away from changing that,” Jacob deadpans.

Ezekiel swipes a hand under his eyes, biting his lips together. “Okay, okay, I’m done. I’m sorry, I’ll stop now,” he giggles softly, then leans in for another kiss, gently coaxing Jacob’s lips apart with his.

The first brush of his tongue brings Jacob back around almost immediately, strong arms coming around his back, pulling him closer. With a low growl, Jacob curls his hands beneath Ezekiel’s thighs and lifts him off the ground, holding him up with surprising ease; Ezekiel wraps both legs around him, locking his ankles together in the small of his back and gripping his shoulders tight as Jacob walks them into the bedroom. Ezekiel grunts softly when they fall onto the bed, the historian’s weight atop him. 

Jacob slides his rough hands up the thief’s arms and pries them from his neck, pinning them down on the pillows. Ezekiel can get away easily, but that’s not the point. “Now how you wanna do it, baby? You want to fuck me? Or do I get to fuck you?” he rumbles, squeezing Ezekiel’s wrists.

“Ooh, fuck me.”

“Mm, music to my ears.” Jacob’s mouth attacks Ezekiel’s throat once more, biting sharply then gently tonguing the red marks, sucking livid purple hickeys on each side of his neck, directly over his pulse point. His hands shove up under Ezekiel’s shirt, peeling it up; it gets slung across the room, closely followed by his shoes, socks, and trousers. He doesn’t wear shorts if he can get away with it, and all the better.

When Jacob’s hand wraps around his cock, Ezekiel squirms and groans, one hand fumbling blindly for the bedside table drawer. He manages to get the damn thing open and grabs the lube, insistently pressing it into Jacob’s free hand. As much as he likes the historian’s calluses, it doesn’t exactly make for a comfortable hand-job.

But instead of opening the lube, Jacob just slides down the bed and trades his hand for his mouth; Ezekiel writhes against the sheets eagerly, back arching. He’s so distracted by Jacob’s teasing little kitten licks that he doesn’t hear the cap on the lube pop open, and he yelps aloud when one slick finger presses into him, sliding back and forth, twisting, working him open. One finger becomes two, and he clenches a hand in Jacob’s hair, glad that the cowboy is growing it out so he has more to hold onto. Another loud yelp bursts out of him when Jacob curls his fingers and finds his prostate; he’s got a knack for finding all of Ezekiel’s spots, just like the one under his collarbone and behind his knee.

Two fingers becomes three, just this side of too fast, so there’s a faint burn that only makes Ezekiel more eager. “Ja _cob,”_ he starts, voice cracking when the historian simultaneously crooks his fingers and sinks sharp teeth into his hipbone, sucking a dark mark into the crease between his thigh and hip. “Oh, I—Jacob, please, enough—I’m going to—”

Just like that, the fingers are gone, and he whimpers, hips arching. Jacob crawls up the bed, trailing burning kisses up Ezekiel’s belly and chest, giving him a devious look through dark lashes; he’s somehow managed to get himself completely naked without the thief noticing it, testament to just how undone he is. Ezekiel grabs the back of his neck, fingertips tucked into soft hair, and tugs him up for another kiss, other hand ghosting up Jacob’s strong back. When they break apart again, he whispers, “Please, please, please.”

Jacob grabs one of the pillows from the bed, curls a hand around Ezekiel’s hip, and lifts him up effortlessly, sliding the pillow beneath his lower back. 

Ezekiel closes his eyes with a low groan when Jacob gets inside him, a slow push-pull rocking motion until he bottoms out; all he can manage is breathless whines as Jacob moves into him, strong hands clutching his hips. He knows that he’s gripping tight enough to leave bruises, and he doesn’t care. Jacob likes that. He thinks about Jacob being at home alone later, thinking of Ezekiel and fucking him, and he’ll press his fingertips into the bruises. He tells the historian, _“Harder,”_ and he does.

His legs wrap tightly around Jacob’s waist, ankles locked behind his lower back, heels digging into his arse. Jacob gives a breathy little laugh as his hips work fast and hard, his mouth trailing fire over the thief’s neck and shoulder. They’re sliding up the bed from the force of Jacob’s thrusts. Ezekiel throws an arm up over his head, hand flailing blindly until he finds the headboard and grips tightly so he doesn’t get (another) sex-related concussion. His other hand clutches at Jacob’s back, digging his nails in deep.

Jacob reaches down between them, takes Ezekiel in hand, and works him off-beat to his hips.

“No, don’t—” Ezekiel drops his hand from Jacob’s back to grab his wrist instead. “Stop—not like—” 

With a sharp twist of his wrist, Jacob grabs Ezekiel’s hand instead and pins his arm down on the sheets. “Fine, Jonesy. My way or no way at all. Let’s see if I can’t make you come without it, then,” he growls, and Ezekiel whimpers, twisting his wrist to claw at the sheets, clenching around the silk.

Grabbing Ezekiel’s thigh with his other hand, Jacob pulls him up and closer, changing the angle just right so he’s stroking over Ezekiel’s prostate with every thrust, and it’s just _perfect_. He buries his face against Jacob’s shoulder, panting into his skin, clutching him close and tight. When he comes, he bites down, sinking his teeth in hard enough to leave a mark that’ll be there for days; scarves are in the cowboy’s immediate future. Jacob shudders hard and comes too, hips rocking into Ezekiel once, twice, three time before he finally stills and collapses atop him. 

As they catch their breath, Ezekiel strokes the hot, sweat-slick skin of Jacob’s back, gently kissing the bite mark he’d made. Jacob rolls off of him after a moment, and he groans contentedly at the languid ache in his limbs when he stretches out. God, he’s going to be so _sore_ tomorrow, and he doesn’t mind it a bit. Limping around after incredible sex is the best.

“Hey, Jonesy?” Jacob murmurs after a long moment.

“Yeah?”

The historian gives him a smile and chucks him under the chin. “Happy Arbor Day.”

Ezekiel blinks twice and promptly falls off the bed laughing.

 


End file.
